


Love Ain't Colorblind

by MyFakeNameIsCee



Category: Homestuck
Genre: College AU, Humanstuck, M/M, colorblind au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-23 01:37:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3750124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyFakeNameIsCee/pseuds/MyFakeNameIsCee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where meeting your soulmate literally adds more color to your life, Karkat Vantas thought he'd be doomed to a monochrome existence, but much to his surprise a bumbling idiot all but stumbles into his life.  And the strangers' eyes are the brightest .fucking. blue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first color you ever saw was blue.

Bright fucking blue.

The only reason you noticed was because you stepped outside your pitiful small town university and the color was everywhere; and you do mean everywhere. It blanketed the sky in an array of hues so vivid it might as well have been a dream. The color sprinkled itself like glitter into the flow of water and drained through the creases of tiles underfoot. It wrapped itself around the cut of people’s clothes and flowed down their torsos and legs as shirts and jeans. Before today you didn’t think anyone wore clothes that were not some shade of grey.

It pisses you off to no end, because this sudden onslaught of the color blue was triggered by someone you barely glanced at for more than a second in passing. You don’t recall who they are or what they looked like. With college distracting you from interacting with strangers on a regular basis, (not that you’d subject yourself to that anyway) you doubt you’ll ever find them. You don’t know why you’re so worked up over it honestly, the entire idea is complete bullshit and whatever deity might be in charge of the backwards fucked up planet you call home must have a shitty sense of humor if they think you’d ever find a soulmate. Right. Hah. Absurd, you’re going to spew an endless stream of “I’m-so-fucking-amused” chuckles. It will sound like a car engine dying. People will cover their ears and fall to their knees and beg for it to stop.

You, Karkat Vantas, finding someone who would not only tolerate the sight of your ugly mug and not eject the contents of their stomachs at a glance, but would also manage to have a brain so underdeveloped and puny that they manage to fall in love with said ugly mug?

What a thought.

Or not, there are two known types of soulmates: romantic and platonic. Maybe this mystery person will humor you and you’ll end up as _“best friendz 4 lief!!1!!1!”._ It occurs to you that blue seems to be the only color that you _can_ see, everything else seems to be as dull a grey as ever. You had heard that once you've met or seen your supposed soulmate (platonic or otherwise) all colors would become known to you, which doesn't really make sense because then how would you know about your second soulmate if you ever found them? Luckily you have a good friend who has known her soulmate for years and is well versed in how the process works, and despite the mounds of work you have to get done, it’d probably be a good idea to stop by her place later to ask a couple questions and tell her what happened today; hell, if you’re lucky Lalonde won’t take the opportunity to probe your useless brain muscle. No thanks once was enough.

You trudge to your last class of the day while determinedly staring at your shoes in thought. Taking all morning classes allows you to get out and away from the bustle and hubbub of school by 2 in the afternoon; you have to get up earlier but it’s not so bad. It gives you time to work a part time job and finish all the ridiculous essays you have without your sleep schedule suffering any more than it already has the past couple years. Your constant sleep-deprived state often runs you into objects and makes you look like an idiot every day. Today’s chosen object? The glass door that opens into the English Literature building. You weren't looking and smacked right into it. Again. Rubbing the palm of your hand into your throbbing forehead, you push open the door and step into the heavily air conditioned structure. You stroll into the classroom and drop your bookbag by a seat near the door, then turn right back around to use the bathroom before sergeant no-smiles starts talking. When you return the lecture has already begun, but the professor hardly gives you an acknowledging glance, he’s clearly too busy not caring so long as your don’t disturb the lecture.

There’s a small slip of folded paper on the desk you placed your bag next to; you look around and fail to see anyone out of place, so you furrow your brows in questioning and slump into the chair to read it.

“hey! i don’t think you know me but we might be soulmates? like the platonic ones, i’m not gay, but i saw you in the hallway and your shirt was cool and i realized that it was this really vibrant shade of red and the color was super intense and eye catching and now i’m rambling oops. (hehe) well i’ll be at the coffee shop on Grainger Lane today around 6 if you want to meet? see you then! :B ”

The first thought the note gives you is why on earth they felt the need to tell you they weren't gay. Your face scrunches up when you notice whoever this is didn't bother to sign their name, and who still uses smilies? Are they a toddler or something? This is college not “Little Tykes Daycare for drooly, whiny human spawn”. They wrote in blue. It’s nice.

You cram the note in your jeans pocket and focus on surviving until the end of class so you can go home and think about what happened today. 4 hours. It’s going to be a long afternoon.

\---

“Yeah so whatever imbecile wants to subject themselves to the misery that is knowing me decided to leave a note for me to meet them somewhere?”

“That sounded like a questioning tone Karkat, is something the matter? I would have figured you would be thrilled to meet your soulmate.”

A small flip-phone is wedged in the space between your shoulder and ear as you cook yourself a late lunch. You had returned back to your apartment after class, having several hours in between the time the mysterious note-giver would be at the coffee place, you basically just sat around glaring at anything that resembled a shade of blue. You gritted your teeth and let your mind wander. You hadn't even decided whether or not you wanted to go, and you still aren't really clear on how any of this occurred in the first place. So you forced yourself to stand up to call one of your oldest friends, Kanaya Maryam, to hopefully get some answers. It took a couple minutes for her to pick up the phone and in that time you’d decided to attempt to eat something before you settled on what to do about meeting with the stranger. When Kanaya finally picked up you explained your plight, while at the same time spinning a wooden spoon in a sludge that you’re going to refer to as “soup or something”.

“It’s just the whole idea is bullshit.” You say to her, frowning at the soup and stabbing at the bottom of the pot.

“How so?”

“I haven’t been able to see any colors besides blue all day and it’s driving me batshit up the fucking belfry. Am I just cursed to a monochrome misery with random patches of blue? Because let me fucking tell you only being able to see one color is not as great as you’d think for a long period of time, it’s actually, and say it with me kiddos- _Super. Fucking. Distracting._ I haven’t been able to focus since it happened!

Silence wavers on the other end of the line and Kanaya lets out an amused breath. “Oh so it’s colors you’re seeing is it? And is your anonymous buddy also seeing colors?”

“Red”, you tell her plainly. “Whatever the fuck kind of color that’s supposed to be.”

She lets out a light chuckle that cuts in an out with phone static. “It does fit that they’d see red with you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean.” You say, in more of an insulted tone than a questioning one.

“It’s intense and loud and- oh dear I suppose it’s just rather difficult to explain how a color looks to someone who is only just now experiencing them, but I assure you the color is very nice and much like you yourself Karkat! “

“Intense and loud.” You repeat back to her. “Gee thanks. I’m so touched.”

“I prefer lilac is all, it’s very calming and easy on the eyes, but red is such an important color, it’s the color of stop signs and birds and those tacky Santa hats people wear around Christmas.”

You had always gone off the fact that certain patterns in traffic directed everything, and you just learned to follow like a mindless animal, it hadn't even occurred to you that those types of things might also be connected to color. The more you learn about it, the more you realize exactly how much someone finding their soulmate early on can influence their life, as well as the life of the people around them.

“Wow.”

Kanaya makes an inquisitive chime and you shake your head, then remembering she can’t see you, sigh out a “Nothing.” You then backpedal to something she mentioned earlier. “What did you mean ‘Is your buddy seeing colors too’ what else would have happened?”

You hear another muffled voice from her end call her name and she nearly dismisses the comment entirely. “Oh nothing of importance I just find it amusing. You should come over after your little coffee date, we haven’t seen each other face to face in a very long while.”

You physically remove the phone from your ear to squint at is questioningly. Kanaya? dodging a question? Rather than actually telling you? What the literal fuck did she mean “Is your Anonymous buddy seeing colors too”. Are they supposed to go fucking blind? or maybe they’re supposed to decide instead it a good idea to stab curtain rods straight through their retinas and scoop out the eyes with a rusty spoon instead? You express your confusion to your friend on the other end and she chuckles.

“Go get ready for your date Karkat, I will see you later. I must leave now, toodles.”

“Where the god-giving fuck did you get the idea it was a date-” You try to retort, but the click from the other end signals the end of the conversation and you realize that you’ve been blabbing to her for almost an hour and a half and you’ve successfully burned the sludge were trying to prepare. Great. Folding your flip-phone, you place it on the counter and go to wash out the pot of sludge. Only you would be able to successfully fuck up soup. “Fuck I hope they don’t have high standards.” You grumble to nobody in particular. You watch a clock tick down to 6:00 PM and wait for time to pass very slowly. It couldn't really hurt to meet them could it?

\---

You had decided to go meet the mystery idiot anyway. At the time you had just been complaining, but it really does get distracting only being able to see blue and grey, it’s as if this new color demands all of your energy and attention. You cram calloused tan hands into your jacket pockets and sigh. Here’s to hoping your platonic soulmate isn't as annoying as the color blue.

You find yourself at the coffee shop exactly 7 minutes before 6’oclock. The bell above the glass door makes a “ding-a-ling” sound that alerts the one and only patron of your arrival. Nobody’s here, of course nobody’s here, why would anyone be here at six in the fucking evening? it’s not early enough for drowsy students to get a coffee before afternoon classes and it’s not late enough for crammers to blunder in and order the largest size of espresso the shop is legally allowed to sell them without giving the buyer a heart attack after a couple sips in.

The patron you mentioned earlier bolts upright in his chair at the sight of you and then proceeds to get his foot caught in a chair leg. He goes crashing to the floor and you wince as he hits the floor with a solid “thud” followed by a pained moan. From the ground he waves at you and grins ear to ear, teeth gleaming and practically enveloping his face in glee. This dumbass looks like he couldn’t have been happier to fall flat on his face in your presence.

“Hi! I’m John!” He says with enough enthusiasm for ten people. He stares at you expectantly and his eyes flit up and down your face until they catch your own.

Oh god.

You make a sharp inhale and swallow the breath into the back of your throat. He’s just as much as a dunce you thought he would be, just looking at him makes your heart do this _thing_. A thing that constricts in your chest and makes it hard to breath. A thing that wraps itself around your heart and refuses to let go from sheer surprise and urges it to leap out of you and start dancing in elation. He mentioned in the letter that you may be platonic soulmates, is this what that feels like? Your heartbeat drums in your ears and seems to echo throughout your body. You look straight into his eyes, what you earlier thought to be just a nuisance turns into the most captivating and wonderful color in the room. The color in question?

The brightest.

fucking.

blue.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> first meeting and john is dumb

After getting over the initial heart palpitations caused by John, you shove the strange strangling feeling to the back of your consciousness and focus on getting to actually know this person. You stare at him on the floor for a full minute before he uses his stunningly blue eyes to glance at you and then at the chair that had toppled over on top of him.

“Little help?”

“Oh shit yeah sorry! Fuck.” John doesn’t stop grinning.

You go to help the chair off of his back.

You sigh. His shoelace was caught around the leg. Clearly your soulmate is some kind of idiot just as you first thought. Delightful.

John hops up and brushes off his jeans, then sits back down in the now-upright chair, smile still across his features. You pull out an extra chair from a separate table (not like the empty patch of nothingness will be needing it) and sit down with the chair back leaned against the table. You straddle it with your arms crossed over the front and lay them on the table. “So you’re the guy.” You state very blankly.

“I’m the guy. John Egbert. That’s me.” He says back with a shrug. “But I don’t think you ever gave me your name.”

John Egbert. You test out the name and find it rolls of your tongue easily enough, and it isn’t so irritating you’d want to expel the contents of your digestive track rather than become accustomed to it. The second part of what he says catches up with you fairly quickly. You never gave him your name? _That doesn’t sound right, how on earth would he_ \- you begin to think. “If you didn’t know who the fuck I was _how,_ pray tell, did you find me? And It’s Karkat. Vantas.”

This results in a chuckle from John. “Your face looks ridiculous when you're confused, you look like you have to take a massive dump dude.”

What a charmer. John Egbert, everyone. You huff and stand up again suddenly, running your palm harshly down your face. An annoyed groan passes your lips. You are not properly equipped to handle this brand of stupid.

“I don’t care how late in the afternoon it is, I am _not_ continuing this conversation withouta proper amount of caffeine in my system.” You suppose it was a good thing John invited you to a coffee shop. While you stroll over to the counter to order yourself a drink you ask again. “You avoided the question.”

“What question?”

You groan. "How did you find me?”

“Followed you to class.” John says with a shrug.

“You followed me.” pause. “to class.”

“Yup.”

“Right.” Sarcasm drips against the acknowledgment harshly. You lean against the marble top behind you. Um. No. He can’t be serious can he? there’s no way this dumbdumb isn’t joking. “You followed me, a complete stranger, someone you’ve never met before, through a crowded building, down two flights of stairs and across into the literature building-”

“Yeah, you ran into a door. I’m surprised you didn’t notice me, I wasn’t all that sneaky.”

“Why?” You ask, grabbing your now finished order and returning to your previous seat at the table. Because who besides you would find it important enough to harass you soulmate immediately after meeting them? Not even meeting for that matter. He looked at you and managed to rub enough brain cells together to think to himself 'You know what's a good idea? I'm going to follow this douchenugget to class hyuck hyuck'. He decided that all on his own. Your own dumb plan, string bean soulmate. _platonic_. soulmate. As the letter stated. Mustn't forget that oh-so-important-tidbit.

“I dunno, maybe my long legs are just really bad for trying to ninja around.”

You internally debate if it’s illegal to pour scalding coffee down his shirt. Everything you say seems to go in one ear and out the other. “No you inane hunk of rotting radishes, why did you _follow me._ I have no interest in your ability to swing your leg at any object and fall flat on your face.”

John doesn’t skip a beat; instead he tilts his head and answers the question. “Because you seemed cool, plus my sister is in one of your classes and vouched for you.”

You fail to retain anything John is telling you and blink again. “I have never done anything to anyone that would give them any incentive to 'vouch'”- fingerquotes “for me John, I’m not even sure who you’re referring to.”

“Jade.”

"Long hair, big glasses, curses like a sailor jade?”

“That’s the one.”

You take a moment to study his face and think back to that hyperactive girl you’d only seen a handful of times; they really do look alike you suppose. Same dark hair, same nose, same big eyes, but that’s where the resemblance stops. You’d say John has a more colorful personality but you’d also have to turn around and smash your face through the glass panes of the coffee shop door for the joke “more colorful” as if one color really effects anything.

“So what’s your favorite color?” John asks, elbows propped on the table and face contorted into a look of inane stupidity; you’re going to store that in your memory as his 'default expression'.

“I’m going to assume you’re joking, as only a brain-dead infant would ask that kind of icebreaker. What answer were you expecting to get? What about Oh yes my name is Karkat and my favorite color is fucking grey, no not THAT shade of grey, the other shade of grey, no no wrong again, that shade is the same shade as the shit that i scrape off my shoes, i mean the shade of grey that is the opposite of that. Then it would dawn on your pea-sized brain, Oh wait! nobody has a favorite color! because EVERY GODDAMN COLOR IS GREY.” You are not going to admit that despite it being the only color you’ve been able to see you are shaping up to appreciating blue a great deal. Nope, that information stays with you.

John laughs. You attempt to kick him under the table but the position you’re sitting in unfortunately makes that impossible. You try again, and again, until your boot connects with his knee and John yelps, then proceeds to laugh even harder.

“I can’t help it dude, geez! It’s just that you’re pretty funny! I guess if I got to choose anyone to be my lifetime buddy-cop partner I’d want it to be someone entertaining.” His words have you taken aback; where did he get from “stranger I just met 10 minutes ago” to “new best friend”? Where did he get entertaining? John notices the confusion and continues.

“I mean it’s just, we’re supposed to be like friend soulmates right? That’s how this whole thing works? So even though we just met we’re meant to become best friends eventually right? That’s how it goes?”

Despite your affection towards all things rom-com and love related, you don’t actually know all that much about how the “soulmates” thing works, putting yourself into a position where you assume everyone just sort of goes through the motions with you and doesn’t like you in general can destroy the aspect of finding one altogether, but you think John’s definition is accurate enough so you may as well roll with the punches. So you shrug. “Sure.”

Neither of you say much after that for a couple minutes, just sitting in silence while you stare pointedly into the foam cup in your hands. You aren’t really sure what to say exactly, and you aren’t sure if you’re comfortable with the universe uprooting one guy solely to be a part of your life. Shouldn’t you have a say in anything that happens to you? In who you choose to hang out with? Does John even have anything in common with you other than where you attend school? _Fuck it._ You think. Aside from the childish comments he doesn’t seem half-bad and if you’re going to be forced into a friendship by the powers that be by god you’re going to go in on your own terms. That means shitty movies and shittier attitude.

“Do you like movies?” You ask in defeat, breaking the silence. “We could hang out a bit and try to actually be proper friends or some shit.”

John’s grin spreads across his face so violently fast you’re not entirely convinced it isn’t going to sever his face in half. “Yeah! I love movies! What did you have in mind?”

You hesitate in actually telling him; you’re not sure why exactly, if he laughs again you can just threaten more bodily harm.

“There’s a new rom-com playing at the multiplex, I think it has a couple of explosions and the like.” John looks like he is indeed forcing down a laugh. “One word about me being into quote ‘chick-flicks’ unquote, and you’ll wake up with your kneecaps nailed to the outside of your window.”

“I’m sorry it’s just-” He laughs between words. “I wouldn’t take you as someone who would enjoy that? You’re a big guy! Kinda brooding-type. You wear _guages.”_

“Your point being, fucktard?”

“My POINT is that that’s hilarious and adorable.” This reaction elicits yet another groan of annoyance. “adorable”. yeah. sure.

“Just be there you impossible ninny.” You say while rubbing your eyes. This first meeting is becoming a tad exhausting for you. It’s all a bit much to sink in at the moment, so you take the easy way out. School is always a relevant and reasonable way to get out of doing things, that’ll work.

“Look, I’d love to stay and chat but I have a lot of work to do and I’d prefer not to have my grade drop a fucktillion points because I decided I’d rather sit on my ass for 3 hours listening to a stranger ramble on and on about how insanely goddamn hilarious it is that a grown-ass-man can enjoy a certain genre of movie.”

John’s face contorts into a frown and he huffs out his disappointment, (what is he 3?) then whips out a phone from his back pocket and clicks a couple buttons and slides it over to you. “Put your phone number in, so we can meet up again for movies.”

John put in the name for you. Crabby Mc.Yells-a-lot. You meet his eyes to see him waggling his eyebrows in amusement by the chosen name.

With one hand you punch in the 10 digit code that allows people to bombard your phone with messages, then give it back to John. However you don’t forget to send a group message to everyone in his contacts saying “hi guys I’m a moronic twit! :D”. That’s clearly far more amusing. A vibration of the phone shows an immediate response from someone, but you don’t see due to John already taking it back. He pouts at you.

“I’m going to have to get you back now. I’m going to prank you so hard, Karkat. So hard. Your grandchildren will feel the weight of the prank.”

“Sure, John.” You reply with a hidden laugh; so maybe you are having a bit of fun, but the interaction is still tiring.

You pull out your own cellphone and hand it to him. John holds it by the top and looks in awe. “A flip phone, Karkat? When was the last time someone used one of these? The 18th century?” John prods at it and pretends like it’s an ancient artifact in an exhibit rather than a normal everyday mobile texting device.

“It works and costs less than a fancy smartphone, not all of us are Mr. Moneybags.” Rolling your eyes, you tell him to just put in the number before you change your mind.

After returning cellphones to each other you leave your separate ways. It seems John lives pretty nearby as he doesn’t appear to have a ride, but he’s walking down the street in the opposite direction so you can’t really tell either way.

You sigh to yourself, the entire encounter only lasted about half an hour, and it was relatively painless, which rates as a minor success in your book. You did end up leaving with someone's phone number after all, though be it as it may in one of the more stranger ways. You cram your flip-phone into the pocket of your gray hoodie and begin the short walk back to your apartment. Everything went pretty well considering you being you, and hey, now you have someone who you can relentlessly pester about movies until they melt their inner ear from the unwillingness to talk. Aside from Kanaya anyway.

Speaking of Kanaya, your phone vibrates, and assuming it’s her asking about how the encounter went you glance at the text. You squint. It’s not Kanaya, it’s John. You literally left like 2 fucking minutes ago John, are you serious? What the hell could you want?

“are you seeing this Karkat?”

Seeing what? What are you supposed to be seeing?

Another message.

“look at the trees.”

OH.

Well damn.

You type out a quick response and hit the enter button as you stand perfectly still, wind whistling in your ears and a leaf drifting down into the palm of your hand. You study it closely. Really? You think. After only one interaction? You drop the leaf and quicken the pace. You’ve decided to skip right past going home and go to Kanaya’s instead. You repeat what you said to John and relay it to her inbox.

“The leaves are turning green.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow ahahah this was supposed to be up on Wednesday but I got super swamped with another project and i am half-convinced i momentarily died. sorry about that. thanks for the overwhelming amount of support in just the first chapter y'all are wonderful and the reason i write. ;v;

**Author's Note:**

> several months ago i stumbled across an idea by pen-name-pin on tumblr, and they mentioned "what if when someone met their soulmate, that's the first time they see color" so i got inspired and rolled with it, now here it is.


End file.
